


The TiME They Met

by Worldlyshuku



Series: All the TiME in the World [1]
Category: Supernatural, TiMER (2009)
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, First Meetings, Human Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, POV Castiel, POV Third Person Limited, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldlyshuku/pseuds/Worldlyshuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel waited ten years to see a change in his TiMER that would tell him when he would meet his soulmate.  He took an attractive man whose TiMER was already counting down to his home one night only to discover what a terrible mistake sleeping with Dean was.  Six months later, Castiel's TiMER started counting down from 5 days.</p><p>Concept taken from the movie, TiMER, where a piece of technology is implanted on the wrist to countdown to the day you'll make eye contact with your soulmate.  When two soulmates meet, the TiMERs chime.  If someone's TiMER isn't counting down, it means that their soulmate does not have one yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The TiME They Met

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy the movie TiMER (it's on Netflix, if you want to check it out), and it touches on some interesting aspects of knowingly meeting your soulmate. I stole some TiMER aspects directly from the movie, so don't judge me too much... If something doesn't make sense though, let me know, and I can expand on it if need be. Be sure to see the Summary for minor details.
> 
> Written after a burst of inspiration for Destiel Drabble's Daily Tumblr promo contest: http://destieldrabblesdaily.tumblr.com/20kpromo  
> It was _really_ hard to write something less than 2k words, so I went a little over and then added a tiny bit after the contest was over.

* * *

An alarm blared noisily, and as Castiel reached out his arm to hit the snooze button, someone next to him jerked awake. Whomever it was seemed to suddenly panic, and the bed jostled at their distress. Castiel didn't get his arm far enough to the clock though, and the alarm was still soundly reminding him that it was 6 o'clock in the morning, and he should be getting ready for work – except it was his day off, so he must have forgotten to disable it for the weekend.

“Where? Wha- Ah, fuck!”

Castiel hit the alarm with a groan and turned to the person frantically trying to escape the plush bed spread, watching their head disappear past the edge of the bed with the sound of a bodily thump. “Hey, you alright?” he asked, sitting up and peering over the bed. His bed partner bolted upright, a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt bunched up in arms covering a very naked crotch. _Ah..._ Castiel mused, trying to make out the flustered look on their face. _The man I took home last night. Dean, was it?_

“I, uh. I should go,” the man-most-likely-named-Dean said, stuffing his legs into his jeans, disregarding any pretense of putting on underwear first until he saw Castiel staring at him and he pointedly turned around, but that just gave a Castiel a rather lovely view of his backside that reflected the green glow of the alarm clock light on the curve of his firm buttocks.

Castiel tried to mutter and point at the pair of boxers laying on the far side of the room, but the man was already opening the bedroom door with his shirt half-on. “Hey!” Castiel shouted, stunning the other guy into pausing at the threshold. “Bolting in the morning is fine with me, but at least have some coffee or breakfast before you run off. Don't be inconsiderate.” He watched him slip into his other sleeve and look over his shoulder. “Dean, right?”

The man nodded and then suddenly shook his head. “I'm sorry. This isn't... I...” Dean clenched his jaw and peered out into the hallway. “What ever happened last night, didn't. Forget it, okay?”

Castiel dropped his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed sleep from his eyes. It was way too early in the morning for him to fully remember the details of last night, but he recalled lovely green eyes and a nice smile. Copious amounts of alcohol – yes, that would explain the lingering headache. Stumbling into a cab and giggling kisses in the backseat much to the chagrin of the cabbie. The creaking of the bed as... well, his face flushed warm recalling the rough and tumble in his bed.

Castiel eyed his own boxers near Dean's foot at the door, so he dug into his dresser nearby instead to slip on a new pair, the comforter resting over his waist. When he looked up at Dean again, he saw the man staring at a spot in front of him outside the room, the first of the Sun's light starting to filter through the window and lighting up his tight face and drawn brows. “Are you worried about your TiMER? That you haven't zeroed out yet?”

Dean's eyes drifted to his right wrist at the strip of metal adhered to his skin. When he looked up again, still frozen in the doorway, he appeared to just want to escape.

Castiel shook his head with a sigh. “I don't usually take people with TiMERs back to my place, but alcohol... I apologize if I upset you. You still have a year before you find your One, right? They'll still be there for you regardless of the number of people you've slept with. Please, don't feel guilty about that.” He looked down at his own wrist at the TiMER with the lines instead of days, hours, minutes, and seconds counting down.

Dean shook his head. “That's not the problem. I can't cheat on someone I've never met. Look, what was your name again?”

“Castiel.”

“Ah, right. I... called you Cas,” Dean said, seeming to work through memories of last night. “I just realized that I came here in a cab, so my Baby is still at the bar. I'm going to call a cab to come pick me up and wait outside.”

Castiel finally pushed away from the bed, walking over to his closet to put on a robe. “Ouch. Was last night that terrible?” It wasn't bad from what he remembered. He had thoroughly enjoyed Dean's hands and lips on his flesh, his... oh... Dean's inexperience with being with another man, but he made up for it with his vigor and eagerness to screw Castiel senseless. _Is that what this is about? Dean's freaking out about sleeping with a man?_

Dean groaned and rubbed his hand down the length of his face. “Ugh, I just. I'm not... please don't make this more awkward for me. Can I just go?”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, furrowing his brows at Dean's practically-confirmed internalized homophobia rearing its head. He flicked his chin over to the other side of the bed against the wall. “Don't forget your underwear,” he scoffed.

Dean shuffled over to the almost abandoned article of clothing, looking every bit like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Back again at the door, he started to open his mouth, but closed it with a frown.

Castiel followed Dean down the hallway, unlocked the door for him, and opened it to the chill of the early morning. “Some words of advice. I hope you're more considerate for your soulmate when you find her next year. As far as soulmates go, she'll overlook this night of gay passion even if you tell her about your personal transgression.” The words came out harsher than he had anticipated.

Dean chuckled nervously, fishing his phone out of his front pocket, realizing that he still had his boxers in his hand and wadded them up into the opposite pocket with little success. “I, uh, I guess.” Dean looked down at the ground at the welcome mat in front of the door. “You know, funny you should mention that,” he chuckled again, covering his crooked smile with his finger, “I don't know if I'll ever meet her.”

Castiel tilted his head and squinted unbelieving at Dean. “But your TiMER-”

“Is fake,” Dean admitted, peeling the countdown-to-meeting-his-soulmate-watch off of his wrist. “A friend of mine found them online.”

Castiel stared at his naked wrist and then at the curved metal pinched in Dean's other hand. He couldn't fathom why a man wanting to forget what had happened between them was even confessing to this, but instead he asked, “Fake? Why on Earth would you want to have a _fake_ TiMER?”

“It's...” Dean turned on his phone and scratched at the back of his neck with his opposite hand. “I don't really believe in it, and it's easier to, you know... if I don't have the pressure of some chick wanting me to get one.”

“It's easier to what?” Castiel blinked, realization setting in. He set Dean with a hard gaze. “You trick people into sleeping with you because there's no, what? No possibility of it being more than a one-night stand? They'll know that there's no possible future with you because neither of you have reached the final countdown?” Castiel shook his head hard, and then he held out his own wrist. “I've had this thing set on _nothing_ for ten years, but that doesn't deter me from having a good time while looking for love. I am capable of both. Don't mock those of us that believe in the system just so that you can get your rocks off.”

“Women,” Dean murmured.

“What?”

Dean cleared his throat and answered more clearly, “Women. I don't... not _people_. Just women. Last night shouldn't have-”

Castiel didn't let him finish as he slammed the door in his face. Too wound up to go back to sleep, he stomped into his kitchen and nearly broke the coffee pot.

* * *

 

It was almost six months later when Castiel's TiMER gave a little beep, and he looked down at his wrist to find the numbers: 005d 08h 05m 12s. Wherever his soulmate was, they had just had their own TiMER implanted, and he was going to meet them in less than a week. Castiel smiled to himself.

He barely got four hours of sleep that night.

* * *

 

The day he was to meet his soulmate, Castiel only got three hours of sleep.

His lack of sleep was a problem that morning when he misjudged a turn and popped the curb. Castiel had to call his boss to tell him he'd be a few hours late at least thanks to a flat tire. When the tow truck driver arrived, he gave Castiel the bad news that he might have damaged the front axle as well. The nearest repair shop was only a few miles down the road, so the small talk in the front of the tow truck was a short-lived ride.

Castiel stepped inside of Singer-Winchester Auto, and a giant of a man who was chatting with a redhead paused to look up at Castiel with a wide smile. “How can I help you?” he asked.

Castiel pointed outside to his car being lowered from the tow truck. “I... got a flat. Maybe a broken axle. I was hoping to drop it off and pick it up after work.”

The tall man nodded, and Castiel saw his name tag read Sam. “We don't have anything major scheduled today, so we should be able to finish by closing.” Sam handed Castiel a clipboard with a form to fill out. “Are you okay leaving it overnight if necessary though?”

Castiel shrugged. “Not like I have much choice.”

One of the mechanics came in from the garage to give Sam some oil-smudged papers, and for a fleeting moment, he looked familiar to Castiel – he couldn't place where he had seen him before. When the mechanic with the dirty blond short-cropped hair looked up to give Castiel and the woman hovering at the counter a quick smile, Castiel met his green eyes.

This was...

Twin chimes started to ring, and Castiel flicked his gaze to his wrist. His TiMER that was set at all zeroes as of this morning was blinking. By the look and sound of it, Dean, the mechanic's was doing the same. Dean slowly looked down to his wrist as he brought up his arm and stared at it long after the beeping had stopped. The room had fallen silent at the sound of the chiming TiMERs, so Castiel could hear Dean faintly whispering, “Son of a bitch.”

Castiel shot Dean a knowing smirk. _Yeah, you_ _remember_ _me._ Dean stammered something to Sam and bolted back into the garage.

“Dean!” Sam shouted and started to chase after Dean. He paused at the doorway into the garage long enough to give Castiel a thumbs up and a wink. “Congrats, by the way. Good luck with that handful.” Sam disappeared, but Castiel could hear the faint noises of Sam tackling Dean and nagging for information.

The woman that was chatting with Sam when Castiel had walked in was still leaning against the counter. She cleared her throat so that Castiel turned around to face her. “Hey, name's Charlie,” she said, arm outstretched, “I'm a friend of the Winchesters.”

Castiel took her hand and gave a small smile. “Castiel.”

Charlie pointed at his wrist. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Ten years.”

She whistled. “You must have an older model. I'll apologize on Dean's behalf for taking so long to finally get one. I guess he thought his... _now_ ex-girlfriend was the one, and they went in together to get TiMERs earlier this week. Clearly not the case when their times were different.” Charlie motioned to the door with a wave of her hand. “I know it says 'Employees Only', but they make an exception for family if you want to go to him.”

Castiel shook his head, looking back down at the clipboard to continue filling out his form. “It seems he's the One, so he'll come to me when he's ready. Then I can make that arrogant prick fall hopelessly in love with me.”

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> See Dean's side of this story next!


End file.
